swing life away

I managed to make oatmeal soup today. Just for the record, not something I recommend.
*shrugs shoulders*
You probably don't want to ask.

I also discovered that in the battle of ear piece headphones & bike tire as I'm riding down hill ... bike tire obliterates heaphones into at least 6 different pieces, of varying lengths. Sadness.

Another tiny little note: not everyone reacts pleasantly when I shout "Don't fall in the river; I'm not coming in after you!" as my son teeters his bike at the edge of the drop off trying to stay upright after nearly wrecking. What? Was that the wrong thing to yell? Well, there were some unhappy passer-bys.

I've stumbled across the following humble lil song, it transports me back to the simple mellow days (whenever those were):

Rise Against
Swing Life Away

Am I loud and clear,
or am I breaking up?
Am I still your charm,
or am I just bad luck?
Are we getting closer,
or are we just getting more lost?

I'll show you mine,
if you show me your's first.
Let's compare scars,
I'll tell you who's is worse.
Let's unwrite these pages
and replace them with our own words...

We live on front porches and swing life away.
We get by just fine here on minimum wage.
If love is a labor, I'll slave til the end.
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand.

I've been here so long,
Think that it's time to move.
The winter's so cold,
summer's over too soon.
Let's pack our bags and
settle down where palm trees grow.

I've got some friends,
some that I hardly know.
But we've had some times
I wouldn't trade for the world.
We chased these days down with talks of
the places that we will go...

We live on front porches and swing life away.
We get by just fine here on minimum wage.
If love is a labor, I'll slave til the end.
I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand.

Swing life away...
Swing life away...
Swing life away...
Swing life away...
~TRIANA~

hump day in coolsville

In honor of Mr McKnob, here's my tribute to hump day - 5 things to hump this Wednesday:

1. The guy that still wears tight black jeans & a black muscle tank top at the park. Everyday. He creeps me out.

2. The head honcho of our corporate office who decided we can no longer flex our work schedules around doctor appointments, kids' activities, and life in general.

3. Utah. The whole state of Utah. Does it really have a purpose? I don't want my kids moving there!

4. The punk that slapped a Little Debbie Fudge Round on the windshield of every vehicle sitting in line at the railroad crossing at 11pm on Engle Road Monday night. Happy Labor Day to you Jack-Off. April laughed hysterically while I jumped & nearly pissed myself. (Maybe I have an issue with wetting myself...)

5. The chunky dude that pulled up next to us at the next light asking if he could have our fudge round. Does this happen to ANYone else???!!!
~TRIANA~

family specialty

Saturday the kids & I cruised down the river greenway for a 20+ mile bike ride. This picture shows the nice dirt pile my son landed in the SECOND time he went careering off his bike due an inappropriately placed sign. The city of Fort Wayne should really look into a better placement strategy for these signs, as I have also flipped off my bike after smacking straight into a sign post. I can't complain too much though, as they do place them in areas surrounded by grass or soft dirt, thus the landing is softened slightly.

In other news, my daughter slammed on her front brake so forcefully that she flipped off the front of her bike but managed to land on her feet. Her bike, however, landed on my leg. Just when my softball welts & battle wounds were fading away...
~TRIANA~

moo-shu

An introduction to Moo-Shu ... Last summer my 17 year old niece brought a stray calico kitten home and named her Moo-Bear. This past spring I stopped over to my sister's house to chat, and off-handedly commented about how Moo-Bear didn't have long to go. Dumbfounded, sis hadn't realized that just under a year old & not quite full grown, Moo-Bear had heard mother nature's calling & gotten herself a piece, and now was ready to pay the piper.

The next weekend while crashing over at my sis's pad, Moo-Bear hopped into bed with me at 10am, just when I was stretching to wake up. Poor Moo-Bear didn't know what was going on as the contractions tighten her young body. I yelled for my daughter to bring me some old towels from the basement while I comforted the mama-to-be. As big around as she had grown, I had predicted her to have 2, probably 3 in her pouch; instead she had one monster yellow tabby cat that came out the size of a 6 week old.

My sister's boyfriend made his usual jokes about "garfield being in the chinese wok" - hence the name Moo-Shu sprung from Moo-Bear.

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly time passes. As I blink, life progresses. From fitting into the palm of my hand, to jumping playfully at strings, he's already the size of his mama.

Each moment in life, I wait painfully for the depression to pass, never realizing all the wonderful things I'm missing mean while, until the moments pass. Are they really gone? Can I relive what I've shut my eyes to?

My new focus: keeping my eyes & ears open to life. Oh, except for the 45 minutes in my uncle's car when he's singing along to a Celine Dion cd; I'd like to forever close my ears to that.
~TRIANA~

recollections

Last Friday night April & I ventured to Columbia Street West to watch a pair of our local favorites, Teays Vein & Sirface. I made a successful fool out of myself, dancing recklessly and chatting randomly, as per my usual. April shakes her head and laughs, and says the dance floor feels naked when I take my inevitable potty breaks.

In true sportsmanship fashion, there were many other members of various local bands mingling about for support & good times. I ran into a younger gent that I knew from a particular band so I struck up a conversation. He said I looked familiar & asked my name, so I told him. Immediately he doubled over laughing; saying he remembers exactly who I am. He informed me that nearly 2 years prior I had shot him down when he tried to get my number from that same bar on the front patio. Wow. He remembered that shit? He said he tried and tried to get my digits that night but I kept laughing and walking away saying, "not tonight hon." Yep. That's exactly what I used to do. Amazing.

Do I really make such an impact on people? 2 years after a drunken night rejection? (He was drunk, I was sober and working, which makes it even more amazing that he recalled any of it.) Did I mention 2 years? Some where in the neighborhood of 24 MONTHS. I'm not talking like last weekend, or a few weeks ago. That just blows my mind.

On top of that, I recognized the guy who caught me in a open-mouth-insert-foot situation once upon a time **like that ever so rare** Let's travel back to my waitressing days, probably around the year and half ago mark...

As I passed by a table with two gents, one calls to me to ask if I had ever heard of the band V****. I stopped mid stride, turned, to the table, and asked, "Why, are you friends of theirs?" - to which both shook their head nope. My loose lips blabbered, "Worst crap I've ever heard in my LIFE, don't know how they ever got a gig anywhere, neither of the two female vocalist should ever try to utter a note again, and their "band" had no harmony and played like shit together."

One guy nearly rolls out of his chair laughing, the other tells me he's the bass player.
F*U*C*K
I'm honestly not sure whether his face or mine turned the deepest shade of crimson, but I'm sure it was a pair. Lessening my shame, I find out that Mr Bass Player had quit the week before. Still a hard pill to swallow that I had so openly & ruthlessly just bashed his playing.

Fast forward back to this past Friday night, I walked past Mr Bass Player & before I put the past together with the present, I smiled and said, "Hey, I remember you..." It was at that very moment that the words slipped through my lips that the past conversations came into clear view ... while I stood there speechless once again, making myself the fool. He chuckled, saying yep, he remembered too.

~~~~~~~~~
Pictured: Sirface @ Columbia Street West 9/04/09.
~TRIANA~

whatever

Tired of caring.
Why should I?
You may grasp at relationships,
But I have come to terms.

It is what it is.
Life will not change.
I will not adapt.
I am, who I now am.

You do not like it.
I do not care.
Get in line.
You will not change me
Because you did not care.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

words unspoken

I haven't been blogging lately, though I've had some really good conversations to blog about & have received several hints as to what would make good blog material ... *April* I'm fairly sure the comment about whose quote would be next was in reference to my lack of post on our recent conversations. The thing is, I just don't have it.
No creativity.
No drive.
No desire.
Everything I want to say, I've already said in so many ways. Redundancy irks me, so I avoid it *mostly*. The stark reality is that LIFE is redundant. Over and over. I need to come to terms with that.

I've big news that also lends itself to why my posts are lacking, I've learned to pry myself away from my crackberry for large periods of time. I used to jot everything note worthy down in the notes section of my phone as it came up in conversation, but I no longer have my phone as a 24/7 attachment to my right hand. My depressed mind just doesn't keep up with thoughts like it used to. I feel fairly independent not having to have my crackberry fix as often per day. Liberation!

I want to just say some things today. They mean nothing and will go no where, but I feel better releasing them from my head.

I could've been the woman of your dreams, but you keep dating these ugly nazi chics and ditching me. What's up with that? But most of all, why the fuck am I stuck on it!?!? Why was it so important to you to have me as a friend when you don't even talk to me when I finally gave in? I want to control this gut reaction and this emotional rush that over comes me. When I do, it will be the last of me. You ask why I'm so mean; it's not a meanness of character, it's a defense mechanism.

I just want to say, STOP FAKING IT! Stop pretending that you've found your soul-mate when you're so miserable that you call me saying you want to commit suicide. Stop using me as an emotional roller coaster. Stop whining about the tiny little things that aren't going right & make the change instead of looking for someone to band-aid it! Stop latching onto every relationship that throws itself at your feet.

You are him, that man that I hate.
What the fuck is that attraction in life?

Lonely? So am I. Better than being miserable.
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T